Photograph
by EthiopianPrincess
Summary: When Haruno Sakura meets up with her first lover, Hyuuga Neji once again embroils them in a feverish affair. This time can she play with fire without being burned?
1. Chapter 1

Hello guys! This story is supposed to be posted tomorrow morning but I woke up in the middle of the night for unknown reasons. I tried to sleep again but it doesn't work and since I have nothing to do I just decided to post this story. Isn't that great? Hehehe…anyway, I just wanted to give thanks to all the people who voted on my poll and this is the story that got most votes. Hope you liked it!

**Rating:** M for Mature

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto. It only belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

**Summary: **When Haruno Sakura meets up with her first lover, Hyuuga Neji once again embroils them in a feverish affair. This time can she play with fire without being burned?

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_Every memory of looking out the back door_

_I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor_

_It's hard to say it, hard to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye._

_Every memory of walking out the front door_

_I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for_

_It's hard to say it, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye._

Photograph by Nickelback

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Instinct told Haruno Sakura that it was wrong but she'd long ago learned not to blindly trust her instincts. For that very reason she'd surrounded herself with the best, the brightest, the most capable vice-presidents, directors and miscellaneous other personnel to manage those ventures in which she'd invested. Now her staff was telling her something and though she disagreed, she had to listen.

"It's a spectacular idea, Sakura," Nara Shikamaru was saying, sitting forward with his arms on the leather conference table and his fingers interlaced. His head gleamed under the Tiffany lamps. "There's no doubt about it. The exposure will be marvelous."

"As vice-president of public relations, you'd be expected to say that," Sakura returned dryly.

"But I agree," chimed in Yamanaka Ino. "And I'm the editor in chief of this new baby. I think you'd be perfect for the premier cover of _Class._ You've got the looks and the status. If we're aiming at the successful woman over 25, you epitomize her."

"I'm barely twenty-five and I am not a model," Sakura argued.

Tenten, Ino's art director, joined the fray. "You may not be a model but you do have the looks."

"I'm too short. I'm only five-five."

"And this will be a waist-up shot so your height is irrelevant," Tenten went on undaunted. "You've got great features, a flawless complexion, and long pink hair. You are natural for something like this. We would not be suggesting you do it if that weren't true."

Ino shifted in her seat to more fully face Sakura, who had opted to sit among her staff rather than in the high-back chair at the head of the long table. "Tenten is right. We have pretty high stakes in this too. You may be putting up the money but those of us at the magazine have our reputations on the line. We have already poured thousands of hours into the conception and realization of _Class. _Do you think we'd risk everything with a cover we didn't think was absolutely outstanding?"

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Sakura answered quietly then looked at Shikamaru. "But won't it be awfully…presumptuous…my appearing in vivid color on every newsstand in the country?"

Shikamaru smiled affectionately. He had been working with Sakura since she had taken over the presidency of the Haruno Corporation three years before. Personally, he had been glad when her father had stepped down, retaining the more titular position of chairman of the board. Sakura was easier to work with any day. "You've always worked hard and avoided the limelight. It's about time you sampled it."

"I don't like the limelight, Shikamaru. You know that."

"I know you prefer being in the background, yes. But this is something else, something new. Haruno may not be a novice at publishing but we've never dealt with fashion before. _Class_ is an adventure for the publications division. It's an adventure for _all_ of us. You want it to be a success, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question, needing no answer. "It's not as though you're going to give speech after speech in front of crowds of stockholders or face the harsh floodlights of the media."

"I'd almost prefer that. This seems somehow arrogant."

"You have a right to arrogance," broke in Inuzuka Kiba. He headed the publications division of the corporation and he had been a staunch supporter both of Sakura and of _Class_ from the start. "In three years you've nearly doubled our annual profit margin._ Three years._ It's remarkable."

Sakura shrugged. She couldn't dispute the figures yet she was modest about flaunting them. "It's really been more than three years, Kiba. I've been working under Dad since I graduate from business school. That adds another four years to the total. He gave me a pretty free hand to do what I wanted."

"Doesn't matter," Kiba said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Three, five, seven years – you've done wonders. You've got every right to have your picture on the cover of _Class_."

"One session in a photographer's studio," Shikamaru coaxed before Sakura could agree further. "That's all we ask. One session. Simple and painless."

She grimaced. "Painless? I _hate_ being photographed."

"But you're photogenic," came the argument from Sabaku Kankuro, Class's creative director. He was a good-looking man, no doubt photogenic himself, Sakura mused, though she felt no more physical attraction for him than she did for Shikamaru or Kiba. "You've got so much more going for you than some of the people who have been on magazine covers. Hell, look what Scavullo did with Sabaku Temari!"

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"You know what I mean. And don't tell me _she_ had any more right to be on a cover than you do."

Sakura couldn't answer that one. "Okay," she said waving her hand. "Aside from my other assignments, we're not talking Scavullo or Avedon here. We are talking about Hyuuga." She eyed Ino. "You're still convinced he's the right one?"

"Absolutely," Ino answered with a determined nod. "I've shown you his covers. We've pored over them ourselves–" her gaze swept momentarily toward Tenten and Kankuro. "–and compared them to other work. As far as I'm concerned, even if Scavullo or Avedon had been available I'd have picked Hyuuga. He brings freshness, vitality to his covers. This is a man who loves women, loves working with them and loves making them look great. He has a definite way with models and with his camera."

Sakura's "Hmmph" went unnoticed as Kankuro spoke up in support of Tenten's claim.

"We're lucky to get him, Sakura. He hasn't been willing to work on a regular basis for one magazine before."

"Then why he is now?"

"Because he likes the concept of the magazine, for one thing. He's twenty-eight himself. He can identity with it."

"Just because a man reaches the age of twenty-eight doesn't mean that he tires of nubile young girls," Sakura pointed out. "We all have friends whose husbands grab for their _Vogues_ and _Bazaars _as soon as they arrive."

Kankuro agreed. "Yes, and I'm not saying that Hyuuga's given up on twenty-four-year-old models. But I think he understands the need for a publication like ours. From what he said, he often deals with celebrities who are totally insecure about the issue of age. They want him to make them look twenty-one. He wants to make them look damned good at whatever age they are. He claims that some of the most beautiful women he's photographed in the last few years have been in their mid-forties."

"Wonderful man," Ino said, beaming brightly.

Sakura sent an amused smile in her direction. Ino was in her twenties and extremely attractive.

Kankuro continued. "I think there's more, though, at least as to why Hyuuga is willing to work with us. When a man reaches the age of twenty-eight, he tends to take stock if his life and think about where he's going. Hyuuga Neji has been phenomenally successful in the past ten years but he has done it the hard way. He didn't have a mentor, so to speak, or a sponsor. He didn't have an 'in' at any one magazine or another. He has built his reputation purely on merit by showing his stuff and relying on its quality to draw in work. And it has. He calls his own shots and even aside from his fashion work gets more than enough commissions for portraits of celebrities to keep him busy. But he may just be ready to consolidate his interests. Theoretically, through _Class_, his name could become as much a household word as Scavullo or Avedon. If we're successful and _he's_ successful, he could work less and do better financially than before. Besides, his first book of photographs is due out next summer. The work for it is done and that particularly pressure's off. I think we lucked out and hit him at exactly the right time."

"And he's agreed to stick with us for a while?" Sakura asked then glanced from one face to another. "It was the general consensus that we have a consistent look from one issue to the next."

"We're preparing a contract," Kiba put in. "Twelve issues, with options to expand on that. He says he'll sign."

Sakura pressed her lips together and nodded. Her argument wasn't really with the choice of Hyuuga as a photographer; it was with the choice of that first cover face. "Okay. So Hyuuga's our man." Her eyes narrowed as she looked around the group again. "And since I have faith in you all and trust that you're a little more objective on the matter of this cover than I am, it looks like I'll be your guinea pig. What's the schedule?" she gave a crooked grin. "Do I have time for plastic surgery first? I could take off five pounds while I'm recuperating."

"Don't you dare!" Ino chided. "On either score." She sat back. "Once Hyuuga signed the contract, we'll set up an appointment. It should be within the next two weeks."

Sakura took in a loud breath and studied the ceiling. "Take your time. Please."

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And that's the end of chapter one. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. Don't forget to give me a review. And please NO FLAMES. By the way, my update speed will depend on your reviews. The more reviews I get, I faster I update. That's all. See you all on the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Advance Happy Halloween Everyone!!! Thank you to all who reviewed my story. Here's a long chapter. Enjoy!

**Rating:** M for Mature

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto. It only belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

**Summary:**When Haruno Sakura meets up with her first lover, Hyuuga Neji once again embroils them in a feverish affair. This time can she play with fire without being burned?

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It was actually closer to three weeks before the photographer's contract had been signed and delivered and Sakura was due to be photographed. She wasn't looking forward to it. That same tiny voice in the back of her mind kept screaming in protest but the wheels were in motion. And she did trust Shikamaru, Ino and company knew what they were doing.

That didn't keep her from breaking two fingernails within days of the session or feeling that her almost shoulder-length pink hair had been cut a fraction of an inch too short or watching in dire frustration while a tiny pimple worked its way to the surface of her "flawless" skin at one temple.

Mercifully, she didn't have to worry about what to wear. Kazuhiko Watari, the fashion director for _Class_, was taking care of that. All Sakura had to do was to show up bright and early on the prescribed morning and put herself into the hands of the hairstylist, the make-up artist, the dresser, numerous other assistants and of course, Hyuuga Neji. Unfortunately, Shikamaru, Ino, Kankuro, Tenten, Kazuhiko and a handful of others from the magazine were also planning to attend the session.

"Do you _all _have to be there?" Sakura asked nervously when she spoke with Ino the day before the scheduled shoot.

"Most of us do. At least the first time. Hyuuga knows what kind of feeling we want in this picture but I think our presence will be a reminder to him of the investment we have in this."

"He's a professional. He knows what he's being paid for. I thought you had faith in him."

"I do," Ino responded with confidence. "Maybe what I'm trying to say is that it's good PR for us to be there."

"It may be good PR but it's not doing anything for my peace of mind. It'll be bad enough with all of Hyuuga's people there. With all of _you_ there, I'll feel like I'm a public spectacle. My God," she muttered under her breath, "I don't know how I let myself be talked into this."

"You let yourself be talked into it because you know it's going to be a smashing success. The session itself will be a piece of cake after all the agonizing you've done about it. You've been photographed before, Sakura. I've seen those shots. They were marvelous."

"A standard black-and-white publicity photo is one thing. This is different."

"It's easier. All you have to do is _be _there. Everything else will be taken care of."

They had been through this all before and Sakura had too many other things that needed her attention to rehash old arguments. "Okay, Ino. But please. Keep the _Class_staff presence at a minimum. Shikamaru was going to take me to the studio but I think I'll tell him to stay there. Kiba can take me–_Class_is his project. The last thing I need is a corporative audience."

As it happened, Kiba couldn't take her since he was flying in from meetings in Suna and would have to join the session when it was already underway. So Shikamaru swung by in the company limousine and picked her up at her house that Tuesday morning. She was wearing a silk blouse of a pale lavender that coordinated with the deeper lavender shade of her pencil-slim wool skirt and its matching long, over sized jacket. Over the lot she wore a chic wool topcoat that reached mid calf and was suitably protective against the cold February air.

In a moment's impulsiveness, she had considered showing up at the session in jeans, a sweatshirt and sneakers with her hair unwashed and her face perfectly naked. After all, she had never been "made over" before. But she hadn't been able to do it. For one thing, she had every intention of going to the office directly from the shoot hence her choice of clothes. For another, she believed she had an image to uphold. Wearing jeans and sweatshirt, as she so often did at home alone on weekends, she looked young and vulnerable. But she was twenty-four and the president of her family's corporation. Confidence had to radiate from her, as well as sophistication and maturity. True, Hyuuga's hairstylist would probably rewash her hair and then do his own thing with it. The make-up artist would remove even those faint traces of make-up she'd applied that morning. But at least she'd walk into the studio and meet those artists for the first time looking like the successful, over twenty-five businesswoman she was supposed to be.

The traffic was heavy and the drive to the studio took longer then she had expected. Shikamaru had his briefcase open and was reviewing spread sheets aloud. Not that it was necessary. She had already been over the figures in question and even if she hadn't, she was a staunch believer in the delegation of authority, as Shikamaru well knew. But she sensed he was trying to get her mind off the upcoming session and through his ploy did little to salve her unease, she was grateful for the effort.

The limousine pulled to the curb outside a large, seemingly abandoned warehouse by the river on the west side of Konoha. Dubious, Sakura studied the building through the darkened window of the car.

"This is it," Shikamaru said. He tucked his papers inside his briefcase then snapped it shut. "It doesn't look like much but Hyuuga Neji's been producing great things inside it for years." He climbed from the limousine then put out a hand to help her.

Moments later, they were walking past piles of packing crates toward a large freight elevator, which carried them up. Sakura didn't waste time wondering what was on the second, third and fourth floors. She was too busy trying to imagine the scene on the fifth, which, according to the button Shikamaru had pressed, was where they were headed.

The door slid open. A brightly lit reception area spread before them, its white walls decorated with a modest, if well chosen, sampling of the photographer's work. The receptionist, an exquisite young woman with raven-black hair, amber eyes and a surprisingly shy smile, immediately came forward from behind her desk and extended her hand.

"Ms. Haruno? I'm Makino. I hope you found us all right."

Sakura shook her hand but simply nodded, slightly awed by the young woman's raw beauty. Because of it, she was a little bit more unsettled than she might have been if Hyuuga's receptionist had been middle-aged and frumpy. Not only was Makino tall but she wore a black wool mini dress with a high collared, long sleeve fuchsia blouse layered underneath, fuchsia tights and a matching belt double-looped around her slender waist. She was a model or a would-be model, Sakura realized and it seemed far more fitting that she should be there than Sakura herself.

Makino didn't seem at all disturbed by the silence. "I think just about everyone else is here. If you'll come this way…"

Sakura and Shikamaru followed her to a door then through it into what was very obviously the studio. It was a huge room, as brightly lit as the reception area had been. Its central focus was a seamless expanse of white wall, curving from the ceiling to the floor without a break. Numerous lights, reflecting panels and other paraphernalia were scattered around the area and at the center was a tripod and camera.

Sakura absorbed all of this in a moment, for that was all the time she was given. Ino was quickly at her side, introducing her to Hyuuga's chief assistant and to the others who'd be aiding in one way or another. Sakura was beginning to feel very much like a fish in a bowl when Ino said, "Neji will be back in a minute. Makino's gone to call him down."

"Down?"

"He lives upstairs. When he saw that everything was set up here, he went back to make a few phone calls." Her gaze skipped past Sakura and she smiled. "There he is now. Come. I'll introduce you."

Sakura turned obediently but at the sight of the tall, brown-haired man approaching, her pulse tripped. A face from the past…yet vaguely different; she had to be imagining. But she was frozen to the spot, staring in disbelief as he drew nearer. Hyuuga was a common name…it wouldn't be him, not _him._ But he was looking at her, too, and his eyes said she wasn't mistaken. Those white eyes…she could never mistake those eyes!

Her breath was caught in her throat and her heart began to hammer at her chest as though it were caught, trapped, locked in a place it didn't want to be. Which was exactly the way she felt herself. "Oh, no," she whispered in dismay.

Ino felt both her momentary paralysis and the ensuing trembling. "It's okay," she murmured soothingly by Sakura's ear. "He may be gorgeous but he's a nice guy to boot."

Sakura barely heard her. She stared, stunned and shaken, as Hyuuga Neji approached. His eyes were on her, as they had been from the moment she had turned and caught sight of him but they held none of the shock Sakura's did. He had known, she realized. Of course. He had known. There was only one Haruno Corporation and only one Haruno Sakura with pink hair to go with it. But Hyuuga? It was a common name. Not that it would have made a difference. Around her house he had been referred to as "that prodigy kid" or simply "him." As for Sakura, she had never ever known his first name. He had been "Hyu" to her.

"Neji," Ino was saying brightly, "this is Sakura."

He had stopped two feet away, taking in the look in Sakura's eyes, the ashen hue of her skin, her frozen stance. "I know," he said softly, his voice barely carrying over the animated chatter of the others in the room. "We have met before."

"You've met…but I don't understand." Ino turned confused eyes on Sakura. "You didn't say…" Her words trailed off. She had never seen a human being turn into a shadow before but that was exactly what seemed to be happening. "Sakura?" she asked worriedly. "Are you all right?"

It was Neji who answered, his eyes still glued to Sakura's. "I think she needs a minute alone." He took her arm gently, adding to Ino, "We'll be back soon. Coffee and doughnuts are on the way so that should keep everyone satisfied until we're ready." His fingers tightened fractionally and he led Sakura back across the floor. She wasn't sure if he was afraid she'd make a scene and resist or simply sensed she needed the support. As it was, she could do nothing but go along with him. Her mind was in too great a turmoil to allow for any other action.

The din of the studio died the minute Neji closed the door behind them. They were in a bright hall off which no less than half a dozen doors led but it was to the open spiral staircase that he guided her then up through another door and into the large living room that was obviously his own. Natural light poured through skylights to give the simply but elegantly furnished room an aura of cheer but none of that cheer seeped into Sakura, who was encased in a crowding prison of memory.

He led her to a chrome-framed, cushioned chair, eased her down then turned and headed for the bar.

Sakura watched him go. He moved with the same fluidity, the same stealthy grace he had possessed years before when she had known him. He seemed taller though perhaps he had just filled out in maturity. His legs were lean and long as they had been then though they were sheathed in clean, stylishly, button-fly jeans rather than the faded, worn denim he had once sported. The muscle-hugging T-shirt had been replaced with a more reputable chambray shirt, rolled to the elbows and open at the neck. His shoulders seemed broader, his chocolate hair the same as before and still tied.

He had aged well.

"I know it's a little early in the day to imbibe," he said, giving a brittle smile as he returned to her, "but I think you ought to drink this." He placed a wineglass in her shaky fingers then watched while she took a healthy swallow of the pale amber liquid. Her eyes didn't leave his not while she drank nor when he crossed to the nearby sofa and sat down.

He propped his elbows on his outspread thighs and dangled his hands between his knees. "You did not know," he stated in a very quiet voice.

Sakura took another swallow of wine then slowly shook her head.

He was grateful to see that she had stopped shaking and could only hope that a little more wine would restore the color to her cheeks. He sympathized with her, could understand what she was feeling. He had been living with the same feelings for the past three months ever since he had first been approached by _Class_. And those feelings had only been intensified when he had learned that the editorial staff had decided to use the executive officer on its first cover.

He had the advantage that Sakura hadn't and still he was stunned seeing her, being with her after all that had happened seven years before.

"I'm sorry," he said, meaning it. "I thought for sure you'd have been involved on some level within the decision was made to hire me."

"I was," Sakura heard herself say. Her voice was distant, weak and it didn't sound at all like her own. She took a deep, unsteady breath and went on, trying to sound more like the executive she was. "I have been involved with every major decision involving _Class_, including the one to hire you but I never knew your name was Neji and even if I had I probably would never have guessed _the_Hyuuga Neji to be you."

His half smile was chilly. "I've come a ways since we knew each other."

"That's two of us," she murmured somberly. She looked down at her glass, looked at Neji then finally took another swallow. Afterward she clutched the stem of the wineglass with both hands and frowned at her whitened knuckles. "I had bad vibes about this from the start. Right from the start."

"About hiring me?"

"About posing for the cover. I argued with my people for a good long time but I have always been one to delegate authority. In the end I told myself that they were specialists and had to know what they were doing. I couldn't possibly have known who you were but I was _still_ reluctant to do it. I shouldn't have agreed." She punctuated her words with one harsh nod then another. "I should have stuck to my guns."

There was a lengthy silence in the room. As long as Sakura was thinking of business, as long as she wasn't looking at Neji, she felt better. Maybe the wine had helped. Tipping her head back, she drained the glass.

"I think they are right," Neji said softly.

Her head shot up and in that instant, the fact of his identity hit her squarely in the face again. The bright blotches that had risen on her cheeks faded quickly. "You can't be serious," she whispered tremulously.

"I am." He leaned back and threw one long arm across the back of the sofa. His forearm was lightly tanned, corded and flawless. "You're right for the cover, Sakura. I've spent a lot of time going over the concept of the magazine with your staff and you are right for the cover. You've got the looks. You've always had the looks, only they are better now. More mature. And God knows you've got the position to back them up."

His voice took on a harder edge at the end. Sakura thought she heard sarcasm in it and she bolted to her feet.

It was a mistake. She swayed, whether from the wine or the lingering shock of seeing Neji after all these years, she did not know. But that was irrelevant; before she could utter a protest, she found herself back in the chair with her head pressed between her knees.

Neji was on his haunches before her. "Deep breaths. Just relax." His large hand chafed her neck, urging the flow of blood back to her head. But the flood that came to Sakura was of memories–memories of a gentler touch, of ecstasy then of grief, utter and total. Seared by pain she had not known in years, she threw his hand off and pressed herself back in the chair, clutching its arms with strained fingers.

"Don't touch me," she seethed eyes wide and wild.

Neji felt as though she had struck him, yet she looked as though she had been struck herself. As he watched, she seemed to crumble. Her chest caved in, her shoulders hunched and she curled her arms protectively around her stomach. She was shaking again and it looked like she might cry. She blinked once, twice, took a slow breath then forcibly straightened her body. Only then did she look at him again.

"You knew. I did not but you did. Why did you agree to this?"

"To work for _Class_? Because it's an idea whose time has come."

"But you have to have learned pretty quickly who the publisher was. Why did you go ahead?"

"If your father had still been at the helm, I might not have. I would not have worked for him. I knew he had been kicked upstairs and I have been told you ran everything but I was not sure how involved he still was. For a while there I waited to get that thank-you-but-no-thank-you call and if it had been from him I would have said the words before he did."

"He only comes in for quarterly meetings," she said, defending her father against the bitterness in Neji's tone. "He is not interested in the details of the business anymore. And even if he had heard your name, I doubt he would have said anything."

Neji gave a harsh laugh. "Don't tell me he's forgiven and forgotten."

"Not by long shot," she muttered then added pointedly, "None of us had. But he wouldn't have associated that…that Hyuuga we once knew with Hyuuga Neji the photographer any more than I did." Her renewed disbelief mixed with confusion. "But _you_ knew and still you went ahead. Why?"

He shrugged but it was a studied act. "I told you, the idea was good. I felt it might be the right move for my career."

"I don't recall your being ambitious."

A muscle in his jaw flexed. "I have changed."

He'd spoken in a deep voice that held cynicism, yes, but a certain sadness, even regret as well. All of it worked its painful way through Sakura's system. When she spoke, her voice was a little more than a whisper. "But when you found out you'd be photographing me, didn't you have second thoughts?"

"Oh, yes."

"And still you agreed to it. _Why?_"

It took him long time to answer because he wanted to give her the truth. He felt he owed her that much. "Curiosity," he said at last.

She shook her head, unable to believe him. If he had said "revenge" or "arrogance" or "sadism," she might have bought it but he wouldn't have said any of those. He'd always been a charmer.

She couldn't take her eyes from his and the longer she looked the more mired in memory she became. "This is not going to work," she finally said in a low, shaky voice.

Neji stood, feeling nearly stiff as she looked. One part of him agreed with her, that part swamped with pain and guilt. The other part was the one that had grown over the years that come to accept things that couldn't be changed. He was a professional now. He had a name, a reputation and a contract. "You can't back out, Sakura," he forced himself to say. "There's an entire crew out there waiting to go to work."

She eyed him defensively. "I don't care about the crew. I'll pay for the services they would have given today and for yours. We can find another model for this cover."

"On such short notice? Not likely. And you've got a production deadline to meet."

"We're way ahead and if necessary we'll change the schedule. I can't do this."

His eyes hardened. He wasn't sure why–yes, he'd had personal reservations when the idea had first been presented to him–but he was determined to photograph her. Oh, he'd been curious all right, curious as to what she'd be like, what she'd look like seven years later. He hadn't expected to feel something for her and those feelings were so confused that he couldn't quickly sort them out. But they were there. And he _was_ going to photograph her.

He wondered if it was the challenge of it or sheer pride on his part or even the desire for a small measure of vengeance. Haruno Sakura's family had treated him like scum once upon a time. He was damned if one of them, least of all Sakura, would ever do it again.

"Why can't you do it?" he asked coolly.

She stared at him, amazed that he'd even have to ask. "I did not know you would be the photographer."

"That shouldn't bother you. You smiled plenty for me once upon a time."

She flinched then caught herself. "That was a world away, Hyu."

"Neji. I'm called Neji now…or Mr. Hyuuga."

"I look at you and I see Hyu. That's why I can't go through this."

"Funny," he said, scratching the back of his head, another studied act, "I thought you'd be above emotionalism at this point in your life." His hand dropped to his side. "You're a powerful woman, Sakura. A powerful businesswoman. You must be used to pressure, to acting under it. I'd have thought you'd be able to rise to the occasion."

He was goading her and she knew it. "I'm a human being."

He mouthed an exaggerated "Hn."

"What do you want from me?" she cried and something in her voice tore at him quite against his will.

His gaze dropped from her drained face to her neck, her breasts, her waist, her hips. He remembered. Oh, yes, he remembered. Sweet memories made bitter by a senseless accident and the vicious indictment of a family in mourning.

But that was in the past. The present was a studio, production crew and equipment waiting and a magazine cover to be shot.

"I want to take your picture," he said very quietly. "I want you to pull yourself together, walk out into that studio and act like the publisher of this magazine we're trying to get off the ground. I want you to put yourself into the hands of my staff then sit in front of my camera and work with me." His voice had grown harder again though he barely noticed. Despite his mental preparation for this day, he was as raw, emotionally, as Sakura was.

He dragged in a breath and his jaw was tight. "I want to see if this time you'll have the guts to stand on your own two feet and see something through."

Sakura's head snapped back and her eyes widened then grew moist. As she'd done before though she blinked once, then again and the tears were gone. "You're a bastard," she whispered as she pushed herself to her feet.

"From birth," he said without pride. "But I never told you that, did I?"

"You never told me much. I don't think I realized it until now. What we had was…was…" Unable to find the right words when her thoughts were whirling, she simply closed her mouth, turned and left the room. She walked very slowly down the winding staircase, taking one step at a time, gathering her composure. He'd issued a challenge and she was determined to meet it. He wanted a picture; he'd get a picture. She _was_the publisher of this magazine and yes, she was a powerful businesswoman. Neji had decimated her once before. She was not going to let it happen again.

By the time she reentered the studio, she was concentrating on business, her sole source of salvation. Ino rushed to her side and studied her closely. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said.

"God, I'm sorry, Sakura. I did not realize that you knew him."

"Neither did I."

"Are you over the shock?"

"The shock, yes."

"But he's not your favorite person. You don't know how _awful_ I feel. Here we've been shoving him at you–"

"But you were right, Ino. He's a superb photographer and he's the right man for _Class_. My personal feelings are irrelevant. This is pure business." Her chin was tipped up but Ino couldn't miss the pinched look around her mouth.

"But you didn't want to be on the cover to begin with and now you've got to cope with Neji."

"Neji won't bother me." It was Neji who would…if she let him. She simply wouldn't allow it. That was that! "I think we'd better get going. I've got piles of things waiting for me at the office."

Ino gave her a last skeptical once-over before turning and gesturing to Neji's assistant.

In the hour that followed, Sakura was shuttled from her side room to side room. She submitted to having her hair completely done, all the while concentrating on the meeting she would set up the next day with the management of her computer division. She watched her face as it was cleaned then skillfully made up but her thoughts were on a newly risen distribution problem in the medical supplies section. She let herself be stripped then dressed but her mind was on the possibility of luring one particularly brilliant competitor to head Haruno's market research department. As a result, she was oblivious to the vividly patterned silk skirt and blouse to the onyx necklace, bracelet and earrings put on her as she was to the fact that the finished product was positively breathtaking.

The audience in the main room was oblivious to no such thing. The minute she stepped from the dressing room, she was met by a series of "ooohs" and "aaahs," immediately followed by a cacophony of chatter.

But she was insulated. In the time it had taken for Neji's people to make her camera-ready, she had built a wall around herself. She was barely aware of being let to a high, backless stool set in the center of the seamless expanse of curving white wall. She was barely aware of the man who continued to poke at her hair or the one who lightly brushed powder on her neck, throat and the narrow V neck between her breasts or the woman who smoothed her skirt into gentle folds around her legs and adjusted the neckline of her blouse.

She was aware of Neji, though, the minute he came to stand before her with his legs planted apart and his eyes scrutinizing what she'd become. She felt her heart beat faster so she conjured the image of that particularly brilliant competitor she wanted to head the market research division.

She'd met the man several times yet now his image kept fading. She blinked, swallowed and tried again, this time thinking of the upcoming stockholder's meeting and the issues to be dealt with. But the issues slipped from mind. Something about rewriting bylaws…hostile takeover attempts…

Neji turned to issue orders to his assistants and she let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. A quartz floodlight was set here, another there. Reflectors were placed appropriately. A smaller spotlight was put farther to one side, another to the back, several more brought down from overhead. Neji moved around her, studying her from every angle, consulting his light meter at each one.

She felt like a yo-yo, spinning to the end of its rope when he looked at her, recoiling in relief when he looked away. She didn't want to think ahead to when he'd be behind his camera focusing solely on her, for it filled her with dread. So she closed her eyes and thought yoga thoughts, blank mind, deep steady breaths, relaxation.

She'd never been all that good at yoga.

She put herself into a field of wildflowers glowing in the springtime sun but the sun was too hot and the wildflowers began doing something to her sinuses, not to mention her stomach and there was a noise that should have been appropriate but somehow was grating. The chirping of birds, the tickle of a nearby stream…no, the sounds of a gentle piano…a lilting love song…

Her eyes riveted to Neji, who approached her barehanded. "That music," she breathed. "Is it necessary?"

He spoke as softly as she had. "I thought it might relax you, put you in the mood."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Actually, I wasn't. If it bothers you–"

"I does. I don't like it."

"Would you like something else?"

"Silence would be fine."

"I need to be put in the mood, too."

"Then put on something else," she whispered plaintively and breathed a sigh of relief when he walked to the side to talk with one of his assistants, who promptly headed off in the other direction. Sakura barely had time to register the spectators gathered in haphazard clusters beyond camera range, sipping coffee, munching doughnuts and talking among themselves as they observed the proceedings, when Neji turned. He stood very close and regarded her gently. She felt the muscles around her heart constrict.

He put his hands on her shoulders and tightened his fingers when she would've leaned back out of his grasp. "I want you to relax," he ordered very softly, his face inches above hers. He began to slowly knead the tension from her shoulders. "If we're going to get anything out of this, you've got to relax."

The background music stopped abruptly. "I can't relax when you're touching me," she whispered.

"You'll have to get used to that. I'll have to touch you to turn you here or there where I want you."

"You can't tell me what to do. You don't have to do it for me."

His hands kept up their kneading though her muscles refused to respond. "I enjoy touching you. You're a very beautiful woman."

She closed her eyes. "Please, no. Don't play your games with me."

"I am not playing games. I'm very serious."

"I can't take it." Just then the music began again, this time to a more popular, faster beat. Her eyes flew open. "You're not going to have me _move_, are you?"

He had to smile at the sheer terror in her eyes. "Would it be so awful?"

Her expression was mutinous. "I won't do that, Hyu. I'm not a model or a dancer or an exhibitionist and I _refuse_ to make an utter fool out of myself in front of all these people."

He was still smiling. At the age of twenty-four, she was more beautiful than he had ever imagined she'd be. Though he had no right to, he felt a certain pride in her. "Take it easy, Sakura. I won't make you dance or move. We'll just both flow with the music. How does that sound?"

It sounded awful and his smile was upsetting her all the more. "I'm not really up for flowing."

"What are you up for?"

Her eyes widened on his face in search of smugness but there was none. Nor had there been suggestiveness in his tone which maintained the same soft and gentle lilt. He was trying to be understanding of her and of the situation they'd found themselves in, she realized.

His hands on her shoulders had stopped moving. She averted her gaze to the floor. "I'm not up for much right about now but I guess we'd better get on with this."

"A bit of pain…a blaze of glory?"

She jerked her eyes back to his and quite helplessly they flooded. "How _could _you?" she whispered brokenly.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her damp brow then murmured against her skin, for her ears alone, "I want you to remember, Sakura. I want you to think about what we had. That first time on the shore, the other times in the woods and on my narrow little cot."

Too weak to pull away from him and further hamstrung by the people watching, she simply close her eyes and struggled to regain her self-control. Neji drew back and brushed a tear from the corner of her eyes.

"Remember it, Sakura," he whispered gently. "Remember how good at it was, how soft and warm and exciting. Pretend we're back there now, that we're lovers stealing away from the real world, keeping secrets only the two of us share. Pretend that there's danger, that what we're doing is slightly illicit but that we're very, very sure of ourselves."

"But the rest–"

"Remember the good part, Sakura. Remember it when you look at me now. I want confidence from you. I want defiance and promise and success and that special kind of feminine spirit that captivated me from the start. You've got it in you. Let me see it."

He stepped back then and without a word went to his camera.

Stunned and more confused than ever, Sakura stared after him. Brushes dabbed at her cheeks and glossed her lips; fingers plucked at her hair. She wanted to push them away because they intruded on her thoughts but she had no more power to lift a hand than she had to get up and walk from the room as that tiny voice of instinct told her to do.

It began then. With his legs braced apart and his eyes alternating between the camera lens and her, Neji gave soft commands to the lighting crew. Then, "Let's get a few straightforward shots first. Look here, Sakura."

She had been looking at him all along, watching as he peered through the lens then stepped to the side holding the remote cord to the shutter. She felt wooden. "I don't know what to do. Am I supposed to…smile?"

"Just relax. Do whatever you want. Tip your head up…a little o the left…atta girl." Click.

Sakura made no attempt to smile. She didn't want to smile. What she wanted to do was cry but she couldn't do that.

"Run your tongue over your lips." Click. "Good. Again."

Click. Click. "Shake your head…that's the way…like the ocean breeze…warm summer's night…"

Sakura stared at the camera in agony, wanting to remember as he was urging but simultaneously fighting the pain.

He felt the camera and came to her, shifting her on the stool, repositioning her legs, her arms, her shoulders, her head, all the time murmuring soft words of encouragement that backfired in her mind. He returned to the camera, tripped the lens twice then lifted the tripod and moved the entire apparatus forward.

"Okay, Sakura," he said, his voice modulated so that it just reached her, "now I want you to turn your face away from me. That's it. Just your head. Now close your eyes and remember what I told you. Think sand and stars and a beautiful full moon. Let the music help you." The words of a trendy pop ballad were shimmering through the room. "That's it. Now, very slowly, turn back toward me…open your eyes…a smug little smile…"

Sakura struggled. She turned her head as he'd said. She thought of sand–she and Neji lying in it–and stars and a beautiful moon–she and Neji lying beneath them–and she very slowly turned back toward him but when she opened her eyes, they were filled with tears and she couldn't muster even the smallest smile.

Neji didn't take a shot. Patiently, he straightened then put out a hand when Ino started toward Sakura. She retreated and Neji moved forward. "Not exactly what I was looking for," he said on a wistfully teasing note.

"I'm sorry." She blinked once, twice then she was in control again. The music had picked up and she caught sight of feet tapping, knees bending, bodies rocking rhythmically on the sidelines. "I feel awkward."

"It's okay. We'll try again." He gestured for his aides to touch her up then returned to stand by his camera with the remote cord in his hand. "Okay, Sakura. Let your head fall back. That's it. Now concentrate on relaxing your shoulders. Riiight. Now bring your head back up real quick and look the camera in the eyes. Good. That's my girl! Better." He advanced the film once then again and a third time. What he was capturing was better than what had come before, he knew, but it was nowhere near the look, the feeling he wanted.

He could have her hair fixed or her clothes or her makeup. He could shift her this way or that, could put her in any number of poses but he couldn't take the pain from her eyes.

He'd told her to remember the good and the beautiful because that was what he wanted to do himself but she couldn't separate the good from all that had come after and with sorrow on her face and pain in her eyes, he couldn't either.

So he took a different tack, a more businesslike one he felt would be more palatable to her. He talked to her, still softly, but of the magazine now, of the image they all wanted for it, of the success it was going to be. He posed her, coaxed her, took several shots then frowned. He took the stool away, replaced one lens with another his assistant handed him and exposed nearly a roll of film with her standing – straight then with her weight balanced on one hip, with her hands folded before her, one hand on her hip, one hand on each, the two clasped behind her head. When her legs began to visibly tremble, he set her back on the stool.

He changed the lights, bathing the background in green then yellow then pale blue. He switched to a hand-held camera so that he could more freely move around, changing lenses and the angle of his shots, building a momentum in the hopes of distracting Sakura from the thoughts that brought tears to her eyes every time he was on the verge of getting something good.

For Sakura it was trial on fire and she knew she was failing miserably. When Neji, infuriatingly solicitous, approached her between a series of shots, she put the blame on the self-consciousness she felt then on the heat of the lights then on the crick in her neck. One hour became two then three. When she began to wilt, she was whisked off for a change of clothes and a glass of orange juice but the remedial treatment was akin to a finger in the dike. She ached from the inside out and it was all she could do to keep from crumbling.

The coffee grew cold, the doughnuts stale. The bystanders watched with growing restlessness, no longer tapping their feet to the music but looking more somber with each passing minute. There were conferences – between Shikamaru, Ino, Sakura and Neji, between Kankuro, Shikamaru and Neji, between Tenten, Ino and Sakura.

Nothing helped.

As a final resort, when they were well into the fourth hour of the shot, Neji turned on a small fan to stir Sakura's hair from behind. He showed her how to stand, showed her how to slowly sway her body and gently swing her arms, told her to lower her chin and look directly at him.

She followed his instructions to the letter, in truth so exhausted that she was dipping into a reserve of sheer grit. She couldn't take much more, she knew. She _wouldn't_ take much more. Wasn't she the one in command here? Wasn't she the employer of every last person in the room?

While she ran the gamut of indignant thought, Neji stood back and studied her and for the first time in hours he felt he might have something special. Moving that way, with her hair billowing softly, she was the girl he remembered from that summer in Konoha. She was direct and honest, serious but free and she exuded the aura of power that came from success.

He caught his breath then quickly raised his camera and prepared to shoot. "That's it. Oh, Blossom, that's it…"

Her movement stopped abruptly. _Blossom_. It was what he'd always called her at the height of passion when she would whisper that she loved him and would have to settle for an endearment in place of a returned vow.

It was the final straw. No longer able to stem the tears she'd fought so valiantly, she covered her face with her hands and heedless of all around her, began to weep softly.

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A/N:

End of chapter two…Whew…my fingers ached from all the typing. This is the longest chapter I have ever written so far. The next chapter will be full of flashbacks between Sakura and Neji so better wait for that. That will explain the reason behind Sakura's crying and all the emotion and stuff. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think about this story. Thank you.


	3. The Past

Before readers kill me for not updating for so long, I want to greet all of you a belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I'm so sorry this chapter took a long time to be posted. I was attacked by a writer's block while writing this chapter and my school's been hell as usual. Hehehe 

By the way, I want to thank all the readers who gave me reviews for the last chapter. Just keep 'em coming so I'll update fast. XP Also, there's a lemon in this chapter. If you don't want to read it then kindly skip the last part.

Here's chapter three of Photograph by fallenleaves142. Enjoy!

_Lalala _– flashback

Hyu - Neji

Age of characters in this chapter ONLY

Neji (hyu) – 21 years old

Sakura – 17 years old

**Rating:** M for Mature

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Naruto. It only belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

**Summary: **When Haruno Sakura meets up with her first lover, Hyuuga Neji once again embroils them in a feverish affair. This time can she play with fire without being burned?

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_Haruno Sakura was on top of the world. Seventeen and eager to live life to its fullest, she'd just graduated from high school and would be entering Konoha College in the fall. As they did every June, her parents, brother and sister and herself had come to their summer home in east of Konoha to sun and sail, barbecue and party to their hearts' content._

_Ryutaro, her older brother by eight years, had looked forward to this particular summer as the first he'd be spending as a working man on vacation. Having graduated from business school, he'd spent the past eight months as a vice-president of the Haruno Corporation which had been formed by their father some thirty years before. Privileged by being the son of the founder, president and chairman of the board of the corporation, Ryutaro was, like his father, conducting what work he had to do during the summer months from Konoha._

_Kagura, Sakura's older sister by two years, had looked forward to the summer as a well-earned vacation from college, which she was attending only because her parents had insisted on it. If she had her way she would be traveling the world, dallying with every good-looking man in sight. College men bored her nearly as much as her classes did, she'd discovered quickly. She needed an older man, she bluntly claimed, a man with experience and savvy and style._

_Sakura felt light-years away from her sister and always had. They were different as night and day in looks, personality and aspirations. While Kagura was intent on having a good time until the day she reeled in the oil baron who would free her from her parents and assure her of the good life forever, Sakura was quieter, serious about commitment yet fun-loving. She wanted to get an education then go to work for a while and the major requirement she had for a husband was that he adore her._

_A husband was the last thing on her mind that summer, though. She was young. She'd dated aplenty, partying gaily within society's elite circles but she never formed a relationship she would have called deep. Too many of the young men she'd known seemed shallow, unable to discuss world news or the stock market. She wanted to grow, to meet interesting people, to broaden her existence before she thought of settling down._

_The summer began as it always did, with reunion parties among the families whose sumptuous homes, closed all winter, were now buzzing with life. Sakura enjoyed seeing friends she hadn't seen since the summer before and her college acceptance letter lying on the desk in her room back at the Haruno estate._

_Sakura had her own group of friends, as did her sister, but for very obvious reasons both groups tagged along with Ryutaro and his friends whenever possible. Ryutaro never put up much of a fight…for equally obvious reasons. Though his own tastes ran toward shapely brunettes a year or two older than his sister, he knew that several of his group preferred the even younger blood of Sakura's friends._

_It was because of the latter or perhaps because Ryutaro was feeling restless about something he couldn't understand that this particular summer he made a new friend. His last name was Hyuuga but the world knew him simply as Hyu._

_Ryutaro had been using the pool when he struck up that first conversation with the Hyuuga whom he discovered to be far more interesting than any of the friends he was with. The Hyuuga was twenty-one, footloose and fancy-free, something which, for all his social and material status, Ryutaro had never been. While Ryoutaro had jetted from high-class hotel to high-class hotel abroad, the Hyuuga had traveled the world on freighters, passenger liners or any other vehicle on which he could find employment. While Ryutaro, under his father's vigilant eye, had met and hobnobbed with the luminaries of the world, he (Neji) had read about them in the quiet of whatever small room he was resting at the time._

_The Hyuuga was educated as he and perhaps even brighter, Ryutaro decided early on in their friendship and the luxury of Hyuuga's life was that he was beholden to no one. Ryutaro envied and admired it to the extent that he found himself spending more and more time with the Hyuuga._

_It was inevitable that Sakura should meet him, nearly as inevitable that she should be taken with him from the first. He was mature. He was good-looking. He was carefree and adventurous yet soft-spoken and thoughtful. Given the diverse and oftentimes risky things he'd experience in life, there was excitement about him that Sakura had never found in another human being. He was free. He was his own man._

_He was also a roamer. She knew that well before she fell in love with him but that didn't stop it from happening. Puppy love, Ryutaro had called it, infatuation but Sakura knew differently._

_After her introduction to Neji, she was forever on Ryutaro's tail. At first she tried to be subtle. She'd just come for a swim, she told Neji minutes before she dived into the resort pool, leaving the two men behind to talk but she wore her best bikini and made sure that the lounge chair she stretched out on in the sun was well within Neji's range of vision._

_She tagged along with Ryutaro when he and Neji went out, claiming that she had nothing to do at home and was bored. she sandwiched herself into the back of Ryutaro's two-seater sports car when he and Neji drove on Neji's day-off, professing that she needed a day off too. She sat intently, with her chin in her palm while the two played Shogi (sp?) in Neji's small room at the rear of the Inn, insisting that she'd never learn the game unless she could observe two masters at it._

_Ryutaro and Neji did other things, wilder things – racing the wind on the beach at two in the morning on the back of Neji's motorcycle, playing pool and drinking themselves silly at a local tavern, and diving by moonlight. Sakura wasn't allowed to join them at such times but she knew where they went and what they did and it added to her fascination for the Hyuuga…as did the fact that his father and mother thoroughly disapproved of him._

_Sakura had never been perverse or rebellious where her parents were concerned. She'd enjoyed her share of mischief when she'd been younger and still took delight in the occasional scheme that drew arched brows and pursed lips from her parents. But Neji drew far more than that._

"_Who _is _he?" her mother would ask when Ryutaro announced that he was meeting with the Hyuuga yet again. "Where does he come from?"_

"_Lots of places," Ryutaro would answer, indulging in his own adult prerogative for independence._

_His father agreed wholeheartedly with his wife. "But you don't know anything with the man, Ryutaro. For all you know, he's been on the wrong side of the law at some point in his, uh, illustrious career."_

"_Maybe," Ryutaro would say with a grin. "But he happens to know a hell a lot about a hell of a lot. He's an extension of my education…like night school. Look at it that way."_

_The elder Haruno never did and Neji's existence continued to be viewed as something distasteful. He was never invited to the Haruno home and he became the scapegoat for any and all differences of opinion the Haruno had with their son. Starry-eyed, Sakura didn't believe a word her parents said in their attempts to discredit Neji. If anything, their dislike of him added an element of danger, of challenge to her own attempts to catch his eye._

_She liked looking at him – at his pale face, which sported the pearliest of his eyes; his long brown hair; his knowing and experienced hands. His body was solid and muscular and his fluid, lean-hipped walk spoke of self-assurance. She knew he liked looking at her, too, for she'd find him staring at her from time to time, those pearl white eyes alight with desire. At least she thought it was desire. She never really knew because he didn't follow up on it. Oh, he touched her – held her hand to help her from the car, bodily lifted her from the boat to the dock, stopped in his rounds of the pool to add a smidgen of lotion to a spot she'd missed on her back – but he never let his touch wander, as increasingly she wished he would._

_Frustration became a mainstay in her existence. She dressed her prettiest when she knew she'd see Neji, made sure her long pink hair was clean and shiny, painted her toenails and fingernails in hopes of looking older. But, for whatever his reasons, Neji kept his distance and short of physically attacking the man, Sakura didn't know what more she could do._

_Then came a day when Ryutaro was ill. Neji was off duty and the two planned to go mountain climbing but Ryutaro had been sick to his stomach all night and could barely lift his head come morning. Sakura, who had spent the previous two days pestering Ryutaro to take her along, was sitting on his bed at seven o'clock._

"_I'll go in you place," she announced, leaning conspirationally close. Her parents were still in bed at the other end of the house._

"_You will not," Ryutaro managed to say through dry lips. He closed his eyes and moaned. "God, do I feel awful."_

"_I'm going Ryutaro. Hyu has been looking forward to this – I heard him talking. There's no reason in the world why he had to either cancel or go alone."_

"_For Pete's sake, Sakura, don't be absurd."_

"_There's nothing absurd about my going mountain climbing."_

"_With Hyu there is. You'll slow him down."_

"_I won't. I've got more energy than you do even when you're well. I've got youth on my side."_

"_Exactly. And you think Hyu going to _want_ you along? You're seventeen and absolutely drooling for him. Come on sweetheart. Be realistic. We both know why you want to go and it's got nothing to do with the clean, fresh air." He rolled to his side, tucked his knees up and moaned again._

_Sakura knew he was indulgent when it came to her attraction for Hyu. He humored her, never quite taking her seriously. So, she mused, fair was fair… "Okay, then. I'll go over to his place and explain that you can't go."_

"_Call him."_

_She was already on her feet. "I'll go over. _He_ can be the one to make the decision." And she left._

_Neji was more than surprised to find Sakura on his doorstep at the very moment Ryutaro should have been. He was also slightly wary. "You're trying to trick me into something, Haruno Sakura," he accused, with only a half smile to take the edge off his voice._

"_I'm not, Hyu. I like the outdoors and I've climbed mountains before."_

"_When?" he shot back._

"_When I was at camp."_

"_How long ago?"_

"_Four…five years."_

"_Ah. Those must have been quite some mountains you twelve-year-old girls climbed."_

"_They were mountains, no less than the one you and Ryutaro were planning to climb."_

"_Hmph…Do your parents know you're here?"_

"_What's that got to do with anything?"_

"_Do they know?"_

"_They know I won't be home till late." She paused, then at Hyu's arched brow added more sheepishly, "I told them I was driving with a couple of friends down to Old Orchard. They won't worry. I'm a big girl."_

"_That's right," he said, very slowly dropping his gaze along the lines of her body. It was the first time he'd looked at her that way and Sakura felt a ripple of excitement surge through her because there was a special spark that was never in his eyes when Ryutaro was around. It was the spark that kept her spirits up when he went on to drawl, "You're a big girl, all right. Seventeen years old."_

_When she would have argued – like the seventeen year old she was – she controlled herself. "My age doesn't have anything to do with my coming today or not," she said with what she hoped was quiet reserve. "I'd really like to go mountain climbing and since you planned to do it anyway, I didn't see any harm in asking to join you. Ryutaro would have been here if he hadn't been sick." She turned and took a step away from his door. "Then again, maybe you'd rather wait till he's better."_

_She was halfway down the hall when he called her back and she was careful to look properly subdued when he grabbed his things from just inside the door, shut it behind him, then collared her with his hand and propelled them both off._

_It was the most beautiful day Sakura had ever spent. Neji drove her car –he smilingly claimed that he didn't trust her experience or lack of it, at the wheel –and they reached the appointed mountain by ten. It wasn't a huge mountain, though it was indeed higher and steeper than any Sakura had ever climbed. She held her own, though, taking Neji's offered handover tough spots for the sake of the delicious contact more than physical necessity._

_The day had started out chilly but warmed as they went and they slowly peeled off layers of clothing and stuffed them in their backpacks. By the time they stopped for lunch, Sakura was grateful for the rest. She'd brought along the food Cook had packed for Ryutaro and had made once addition of her own –a bottle of wine pilfered quite remorselessly from the huge stock in the Haruno's cellar._

"_Nice touch," Neji mused, skillfully uncorking the wine and pouring them each a paper cup full. "Maybe not too wise, though. A little of this and we're apt to have a tough time of it on the way back down."_

"_There's beer if you prefer," Sakura pointed out gently. "Ryutaro had it already chilled, so evidently he wasn't worried about its effects."_

"_No, no. Wine's fine." He sipped it then cocked his head. "It suits you. I can't imagine you're drinking beer."_

"_Why not?"_

_He propped himself on an elbow and crossed his legs at the ankle. Then he looked at her, studying her intently. Finally, he reached for a thick ham sandwich. "You're more delicate than beer," he said, eyes focusing nowhere in particular._

"_If that's a compliment, I thank you," she said, making great efforts –and succeeding overall –to hide her glee. She helped herself to a sandwich and leaned back against a tree. "This is nice. Very quiet. Peaceful."_

"_You like peaceful places?"_

"_Not all this time," she mused softly, staring off into the woods. "I like activity, things happening, but this is the best kind of break." _And the best kind of company_, she might have added if she'd dared. She didn't dare._

"_Are you looking forward to going to Suna?"_

_Her bright eyes found his. "Oh, yes. It was my first choice. I was deferred for early admission –I guess my board scores weren't as high as they might have been –and if I hadn't gotten in I suppose I would have gone somewhere else and been perfectly happy. But I'm glad it never came down to that."_

_Neji asked her what she wanted to study and she told him. He asked what schools her friends were going to and she told him. He asked what she wanted to do with her future and she told him –up to a point. She didn't say that she wanted a husband and kids and a house somewhere along the borders of Konoha because she'd simply taken that all for granted and it somehow seemed inappropriate to say to Neji. He wasn't the house-in type. At this precise moment, being with him as she'd dreamed of being so often, she wasn't either._

_They talked more as they ate. Neji was curious about her life and she eagerly answered his questions. She asked some of her own about the jobs he'd had and their accompanying adventures and with minor coaxing he regaled her with tales, some tall, some not. They worked steadily through the bottle of wine and by the time it was done and every bit of their lunch had been demolished, they were both feeling rather lazy._

"_See? What did I tell you?" Neji teased. He lay on his back with his head pillowed on his arms. Sakura was in similar position not far from him. He tipped his head and warmed her with his pearl eyes. "We might never get down from this place."_

_Her heart was fluttering. "We haven't reached the top yet."_

"_We will. It's just a little way more and the trip down is faster and easier. Only thing is –" he paused to bend one knee up "–I'm not sure I want to move."_

"_There's no rush," she said softly._

"_No," he mused thoughtfully. His eyes held hers for a long time before he spoke in a deep, very quiet, subtly warning voice. "Don't look at me that way, Sakura."_

"_What way?" she breathed._

"That_ way. I am only human."_

_She didn't know if he was pleased or angry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean–"_

"_Of course you didn't mean. You're seventeen. How are you supposed to know what happens when you look at a man that way?"_

"_What way?"_

"_With your heart on your sleeve."_

"_Oh." She looked away. She hadn't realized she'd been so transparent and she was sure she'd made Neji uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she murmured._

_Neither of them said anything for a minute and Sakura stared blindly at a nearby bush._

"_Ah, hell," Neji growled suddenly and grabbed her arm. "Come over here. I want you smiling, not all misty-eyed."_

"_I wasn't misty-eyed," she argued but she made no argument when he pulled her head to the crook of his shoulder. "It's just that…maybe Ryutaro was right. I am a pest. You didn't want me along today. I'm only seventeen."_

"_You were the one who pointed out that your age was irrelevant to your going mountain climbing."_

"_It is. But…" Her cheeks grew red and she couldn't finish. It seemed she was only making things worse._

_He brushed a lock of hair from her hot cheek and tucked it behind her ear. The action brought his forearm close to her face. Sakura closed her eyes, breathed in the warm male scent of his skin, knew she was halfway to heaven and was about to be tossed back down._

"_I think it's about time we talk about this, Sakura," he said, continuing to gently stroke her hair. "You're seventeen and I'm twenty-one. We have a definite problem here."_

"_I'm the one with the problem," she began but Neji was suddenly on his elbow leaning over her._

"_Is that what you think…that you're the only one?"_

_Her gaze was unsteady, faintly hopeful. "Am I wrong?"_

"_Very."_

_She held her breath._

"_You're a beautiful woman," he murmured as his eyes moved from one of her features to the next._

"_I'm a girl," she whispered._

"_That's what I keep trying to tell myself but my body doesn't seem to want to believe it. I've tried, Sakura. For the past month I've tried to keep my hands off. It was dangerous to come here today."_

_Sakura reached heaven by leaps and bounds. Her body began to relax against his and she grew aware of his firm lines, his strength. "You didn't do it single-handedly."_

"_But I'm older. I should have known better."_

"_Are there rules that come with my age?"_

"_There's common sense. And my common sense tells me that I shouldn't be lying here with you curled against me this way."_

"_You were the one who pulled me over," she pointed out._

"_And you're not protesting."_

_She couldn't possibly protest when she was floating on a cloud of bliss. "Would you like me to?"_

"_Damn right I would. One of us should show some measure of sanity."_

"_There's nothing insane about this," she murmured, distracted because she'd let her hand glide over his chest. She could feel every muscle beneath his T-shirt even the small dot of his nipple beneath her palm._

"_No?" he asked. Abruptly he flipped over and was on top of her. His white eyes grilled hers heatedly and his voice was hoarse. "Y'know, Sakura, I'm not one of you little high school friends or even one of the college guys I'm sure you've dated." He took both of her hands and anchored them by her shoulders. Though his forearms took some of his weight, the boldness of his body imprinted itself on hers. "I've had women. Lots of them. If one of them were here instead of you, we wouldn't be playing around. We'd be stark naked and we'd be making love already."_

_Sakura didn't know where she found the strength to speak. His words –the experience and maturity and adventure they embodied –set her on fire. Her blood was boiling and her bones were melting. "Is that what we're doing…playing?"_

_He shifted his lower body in apt to answer her question then arched a brow at the flare of color in her cheeks. "You don't want to play, do you? You want it all."_

_She was breathing faster. "I just want you to kiss me," she managed to whisper. The blatancy of his masculinity was reducing her to mush._

"_Just a kiss?" he murmured throatily. "Okay, Haruno Sakura, let's see how you kiss."_

_She held her breath as he lowered his head then felt the touch of his mouth on hers for the first time. His lips were hot and she drew back, scalded, only to find that his heat was tempting, incendiary where the rest of her body was concerned. So she didn't pull back when he touched her a second time and her lips quickly parted beneath the urging of his._

_He tasted and caressed then drank with unslaked thirst. Sakura responded on instinct, kissing him back, feeding on his hunger, willingly offering the inside of her mouth and her tongue when he sought them out._

_His breathing was as unsteady as hers when he drew back and looked at her again. "You don't kiss like a seventeen-year-old."_

_She gave a timid smile. She'd never before received or responded to a kiss like that, but she didn't want Neji to know how inexperienced she really was. "I run in fast circles."_

"_Is that so?" His mouth devoured her smile in a second mind-bending kiss and released one of her hands and framed her throat, slowly drawing his palm down until the fullness of her breast throbbed beneath it. "God, Sakura, you're lovely," he rasped. "Lovely and strong and fresh…"_

_Her hands were in his hair, sifting through its thickness as she held him close. "Kiss me again," she pleaded._

"_I may be damned for this," he murmured under his breath, "but I want it too." So he kissed her many, many more times and he touched her breasts and her belly and her thighs. When his hand closed over her womanhood, the spot where he wanted most to be, she arched convulsively._

"_Tell me, Sakura," he panted next to her ear, "I need to know. Have you done this before?"_

_She knew he'd stop if she told him the truth and one part of her ached so badly she was tempted to lie. But she wasn't irresponsible. Nor could she play the role of the conniving female. He'd know one way or the other. "No," she finally whispered, but with obvious regret._

_Neji held himself still suspended above her for a moment then gave a loud groan and rolled away._

_She was up on her elbow in an instant. "Hyu? It doesn't matter. I want to. Most of my friends–"_

"_I don't give a damn about most of your friends," he growled, throwing an arm over his eyes. "You're seventeen, the kid sister of a man who's become my good friend. I can't do it."_

"_Don't you want to?"_

_He lifted his arm and stared at her then grabbed her hand and drew it down to cover the faded fly of his jeans. The fabric was strained. He pressed her hand against his fullness then groaned again and rolled abruptly to his side away from her._

_Her question had been answered eloquently. Sakura felt the knot of frustration in her belly, but she'd also felt his. "Can I…can I do something?" she whispered, wanting to satisfy him almost as much as she wanted to be satisfied herself._

"_Oh, you can do something," was his muffled reply. "but it'd only shock you and I don't think you're ready for that."_

_She leaned over him. "I'm ready, Hyu. I want to do it."_

_Glaring, he rolled back to face her, but his glare faded when he saw the sincerity of her expression. His eyes grew soft, his features compassionate. He raised a hand to gently stroke the side of her face. "If you really want to do something," he murmured, "you can help me clean up here then race me to the top of this hill and down. By the time we're back at the bottom, we should be both in control. Either that," he added with a wry smile, "or too tired to do anything about it."_

_It was his smile and the ensuing swelling of her heart that first told Sakura she was in love. Over the next week she pined, because Neji made sure they weren't alone again. He looked at her though and she could see that he wasn't immune to her. He went out of his way not to touch her and much as she craved those knowing hands on her again, she didn't push him for fear she'd come across as being exactly what she was –a seventeen-year-old girl with hots that were nearly out of control. She knew that in time she could get through Neji. He felt something for her, something strong. But time was her enemy. The summer was half over and though she wanted it to last forever, it wouldn't._

_She was right on the button when it came to Neji and his feelings for her. He wasn't immune, not by a long shot. He told himself it was crazy, that he'd never before craved untried flesh but there was something more that attracted him to her, something that the women he'd had, the women he continued to have, didn't possess._

_So when a group of Ryutaro's friends and their dates gathered for a party at someone's boat house, Neji quite helplessly dragged Sakura to a hidden spot and kissed her willing lips until they were swollen._

"_What was that for?" she asked. Her arms were around his neck and she was on tiptoe, her back pressed to the weathered board of the house._

"_Are you protesting?" he teased, knowing she'd returned the kiss with a fever._

"_No way. Just curious. You've gone out of your way to avoid me." She didn't quite pout but her accusation was clear._

_He insinuated his body more snugly against hers. "I've tried. Again…still. It's not working." He framed her face with his hands, burying his fingers in her hair. "I want you, Sakura. I lie in bed at night remembering that day on the mountain but the chemistry's there, damn it."_

"_I know," she agreed in a whisper._

"_So what are we going to do about it?"_

_She shrugged then drew her hands from his shoulders to lightly caress the strong cords of his neck. "You can make love to me if you want."_

"_Is it what you want?" His soberness compelled her to meet his gaze._

_She blinked, her only show of timidity. "I've wanted it for days now. I feel so…empty when I think of you. I get this ache…way down low…"_

"_Your parents would kill you. And me."_

"_There are different kinds of killing. Right now I'm dying because I want you and I'm afraid you still think of me as a little kid who's playing with fire. I may only be seventeen but I've been with enough men to know when I find the one who's different."_

_He could have substituted his own age for hers and repeated the statement. He didn't understand it, but it was the truth, and it went beyond raw chemistry. Sakura had a kind of depth he'd never found in a woman before. He'd watched her participate in conversations with Ryutaro and his friends, holding her own both intellectually and emotionally. She was sophisticated beyond her years, perhaps not physically but he felt that urgency in her now._

"_I'm serious about your parents," he finally said. "They dislike me as it is. If I up and seduce their girl–"_

"_You're not seducing me. It's a mutual thing." Made bold by the emotions she felt when she was in his arms, she slid her hand between their bodies and gently caressed the hard evidence of his sex. "I've never done this to another man, never touched another man this way," she whispered. "And I'm not afraid, because when I do this to you–" she rotated her palm and felt him shudder and arch into it. "–I feel it inside me, too. Please, Hyu. Make love to me."_

_Her nearness, the untutored but instinctively perfect motion of her hand was making it hard for him to breathe. "Can you get out later?" he managed in a choked whisper._

"_Tonight? I think so."_

_He set her back, leaving his fingers digging into her shoulders. "Think about it until then and if you still feel the same way, come to me. I'll be on the beach outside the border of Konoha at two o'clock. You know the one."_

_She nodded, unable to say a word as the weight of what she was about to agree to settled on her shoulders. He left her then to return to the group. She went straight home and sat in the darkness of her room, giving herself every reason why she should undress and go to sleep for the night but knowing that she'd never sleep, that her body tingled all over, that her craving was becoming obsessive and that she loved Neji._

_It didn't seem to matter that he was a roamer, that he'd be gone at the end of the summer, and that he couldn't offer her any kind of future. The fact was that she loved him and that she wanted him to be the first man to know, to teach her the secrets of her body._

_Wearing nothing but a T-shirt, cutoffs and sandals, she stole out of the house at one-forty-five and ran all the way to the beach. It was an isolated strip just beyond an aging house whose owner visited rarely. As its name suggested, tall pines loomed uncharacteristically close to the shore, giving it a shredded feeling, a precious one._

_Neji was propped against the tallest of the pines and her heart began to thud when he straightened. Out of breath and now breathless for other reasons, she stopped then advanced more slowly._

"_I wasn't sure you'd come," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he held out his hand._

"_I had to," was all she said, ignoring his hand and throwing her arms around his neck. His own circled her, lifting her clear off her feet and he held her tightly as he buried his face in her hair._

_Then he set her down and loosened his grip. "Are you sure? Are you sure this is what you want?"_

_In answer, she reached for the hem of her T-shirt and drew it over her head. She hadn't worn a bra. Her pert breasts gleamed in the pale moonlight. Less confidently, she reached for one of his hands and put it on her swelling flesh. "Please, Hyu. Touch me. Teach me."_

_He didn't need any further encouragement. He dipped his head and took her lips while his hands explored the curves of her breasts, palms kneading in circles, fingers inexorably toward the tight nubs that puckered for him._

_She cried out at the sweet torment he created and reached for him, needing to touch him, to know him as he was coming to know her. He held her off only long enough for him to whip his own T-shirt over his head, and then he hauled her against him and embraced her with arms that trembled._

"_Oh, Hyu!" she gasped when their flesh came together._

"_Feels nice, doesn't it?" His voice held no smugness, only the same awe hers had held. She was running her hands over his back, pressing small kisses to his throat. "Easy, Sakura," he whispered hoarsely. "Let's just take it slow this first time."_

"_I don't think I can," she cried. "I feel…I feel…"_

_He smiled. His own hands had already covered her back and were dipping into the meager space at the back of her shorts. "I know." He dragged in a shuddering breath then said more thickly, "Let's get this off." He was on his own knees then, unsnapping and unzipping her shorts, tugging them down. She hadn't worn panties. He sucked in his breath. "Sakura!"_

_Her legs were visibly shaking and she was clutching his sinewed shoulders for support. "Please don't think I'm awful, Hyu. I just want you so badly!"_

_He pressed his face to her naked stomach then spread kisses even lower. "Not any more so than I want you," he whispered. Then he was on his feet, tugging at the snaps of his jeans, pushing the denim and his briefs down and off._

_Seconds later they were tumbling onto the sand, their greedy bodies straining to feel more of the other's, hands equally as rapacious. Sakura was inflamed by his size, his strength, the manly scent with that of the pines and the salty sea air to make her drunk. She felt more open than she'd ever been in her life, but more protected._

_And more loved. Neji didn't say the words but his hands gave her a message as they touched her. They were hungry and restless but ever gentle as they stimulate her, leaving no inch of her body untouched. Her breasts, her back, her belly, thighs and bottom –nothing escaped him nor did she want it to. If she'd ever thought she'd feel shy at exposing herself this way to a man, the desire, the love she felt ruled that out. There was rightness to Neji's liberty, rightness to the feel of his lips on her body, to the feel of his weight settling between her thighs._

_Her fingers dug into the flesh of his hips, urging him down, crying wordlessly for him to make her his. She felt his fingers between her legs and she arched against him as he stroked her._

"_Sakura…Sakura," he whispered as one finger ventured even deeper. "You're so ready for me…how did I ever deserve this…"_

"_Please…now…I need you…" When he pulled back, she whimpered, "Hyu?"_

"_It's okay," He was reaching behind him. "I need to protect you." He took a small foil packet from the pocket of his jeans and within minutes was back, looming over her, finding that hot, and enfolding place between her splayed thighs._

_He poised himself then stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. "Kiss me, Sakura," he commanded deeply._

_She did and she felt him begin to enter her. It was the most wonderful, most frustrating experience yet. She thrust her hips upward, letting her womanhood touch his groin, not quite realizing that it was her own inner body that resisted him._

_He was breathing heavily, his lips against hers. "Sweet…so sweet. A bit of pain…a blaze of glory…" then he surged forward, forcefully rupturing the membrane that gave proof of her virginity but was no more._

_At that very instant he thrust his penis inside of her, she cried out at the sharp pain she felt and tears gathered in her eyes. Neji slowly brushed the tears away. _

"_Okay?" he asked, panting as she was, holding himself still inside of her while her torn flesh accommodated itself to him. It was all he could do not climax there and then. She was so tight, so sleek, and new and all his._

"_Okay," she whispered tightly._

"_Just relax," he crooned. He ducked his head and teased the tip of her nipple with his tongue. "I'm inside you now," he breathed, warm against that knotted bud. "Let's go for the glory."_

_She couldn't say a word then, for he withdraw partway, gently returned, withdrew a little more, returned with growing ardor, withdrew nearly completely, returned with a slam and the feel of him if her, stroking that dark, hidden part was so astonishing, so electric that she could only clutch his shoulders and hang on._

_Nothing else mattered at that moment but Neji. Sakura wasn't thinking of her parents and how furious they'd be, of her brother and how shocked he'd be, of her friends and how envious they'd be. She wasn't thinking of the past or the future, simply the present._

"_I love you," she cried over and over again. His presence had become part and parcel of her being. Without fear, she raised her hips to his rhythm and rather than discomfort she felt an excitement that grew and grew until she was sure she'd simply explode._

"_Ahh, Sakura…so good…that's it…oh God!"_

_His body was slick above hers, their flesh slapping together in time with the waves on the shore. Then that sound too fell aside and all awareness was suspended as first Sakura, then Neji, strained and cried out, one body, then the next, breaking into fierce orgasmic shudders._

_It was a long time before either of them spoke, a long time before the spasms slowed and their gasps quieted to a more controlled breathing. Neji slid to her side and drew her tightly into his arms. "You are something, Haruno Sakura," he whispered against her damp forehead._

"_Hyu…Hyu…unbelievable!"_

_He gave a deep, satisfied, purely male laugh. "I think I'd have to agree with you."_

_She nestled her head more snugly against his breast. "Then I…I did okay?"_

"_You did more than okay. You did _super._"_

_She smiled. "Thank you." She raised her head so that she could see those pearly white eyes she adored. At night, in the moonlight, they were sparkling. "Thank you, Hyu," she said more softly. "I wanted you to be the first. It was very special…very, very, special." She wanted to say again that she loved him but he hadn't returned the words and she didn't want to put him on the spot. She was grateful for what she felt, for what he'd made her feel, for what he'd given her. For the time being it was more than enough._

_They rested in each other's arms for a while, listening to the sounds of the sea until those became too tempting to resist. So they raced into the water, laughing, playing, finally making love again there in the waves, wrapped up enough in each other not to care whether the rest of the world heard or knew._

_In the two weeks that followed, they were slightly more cautious. Unable to stay away from each other, they timed their rendezvous with care; meeting at odd hours and in odd places where they could forget the rest of the world existed and could live those brief times solely for each other and themselves. Sakura was wildly happy and passionately in love; that justified her actions. She found Neji to be intelligent and worldly, exquisitely sensitive and tender when she was in his arms. Neji only knew that there was something special about her, something bright and luminous. She was a free spirit, forthright and fresh. She was a ray of sunshine in his life._

_Sakura's parents suspected something was going on but Sakura always had an excuse to give them when they asked where she was going or where she'd been and she was careful never to mention Hyu's name. Ryutaro knew what was happening and though he worried, he adored Sakura and was fond enough of Hyu to trust that he was in control of things. Kagura was jealous, plainly and simply. She'd been stringing Sakura's friends –she got wind of Sakura's involvement with Hyu, she suddenly realized what she'd overlooked and sought to remedy the situation. Hyu wasn't interested, which only irked her all the more and at the time Sakura made no attempt to reason with her sister._

_It was shortsighted on her part but then none of them ever dreamed that the summer would end prematurely and tragically._

_With a week before Labor Day, Hyu and Ryutaro set out in search of an evening's adventure in the university town of Konoha. Sakura had wanted to come along but Ryutaro had been adamant. He claimed that their parents had been questioning him about her relationship with Hyu and that the best way to mollify them would be for him to take off with Hyu while she spent the evening home for a change. She'd still protested, whereupon Ryutaro had conned Hyu into taking the motorcycle. It only sat two; there was no room for her._

_For months and months after that, Sakura would go over what ifs again and again. What if she hadn't pestered and the two had taken Ryutaro's car as they'd originally planned? What if she'd made noise enough to make them cancel the trip? What if her parents hadn't been suspicious of her relationship with Hyu? What if there hadn't been anything to be suspicious of? But all the ifs in the world –and there were even more she grappled with –couldn't change the facts._

_It had begun to rain shortly after eleven. The road had been dark. Two cars had collided at a blind intersection. The motorcycle had skidded wildly in their wake. Ryutaro had been thrown, had hit a tree and had been killed instantly._

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A/N: End of chapter three. Sorry if you find the lemon scene a bit lame. I'll make it better next time. Comments? Suggestions? Just send me a review and please NO FLAMES.

Happy New Year!

~fallenleaves142~


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:**Hello my dear readers! Sorry for not updating this story. Hope you're not confused with the last chapter. Its content is composed of the past events that had happened between Neji and Sakura. This chapter is not yet checked so please bear with me if there are grammatical errors. Anyways, hope you enjoy reading this chapter. Thank you.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Naruto. It only belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

**Rating:** M for Mature

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"Okay," Neji sighed. "That's it for today."

Ino rushed to him, her eyes on Sakura's hunched form. "But you haven't got what you want," she argued in quiet concern.

"I know that and you know that but Sakura's in no shape to give us anything else right now." He handed his camera to an assistant then raked a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure I am either," he said. In truth, he was disgusted with himself. Blossom. How could he have slipped that way? He hadn't planned to do it; the endearment had just come out. But then, it appeared he'd handled Sakura wrong from the start.

Dismayed murmurs filtered through the room but Neji ignored them to approach the stool where Sakura sat. He put an arm around her shoulder and bent his head close, using his body as shield between her and any onlookers. "I'm sorry, Sakura. That was my fault. It wasn't intentional, believe me."

She was crying silently, whitened fingers pressed to her downcast face. "Why don't you go in and change. We'll make a stab at this another day."

She shook her head but said nothing. Neji crooked his finger at Ino then when she neared, tossed his head in the direction of the dressing room and left the two women alone.

"Come on, Sakura," Ino said softly. It was her arm around Sakura's shoulders now and she was gently urging her to her feet.

"I have spoiled everything," Sakura whispered, "and made a fool of myself in the process."

"You certainly have not," Ino insisted as they started slowly toward the dressing room. "We all knew you weren't wild about doing this. So you've shown us that you're human and that there are some kinds of pressure you just can't take."

"We'll have to get someone else for the cover."

"Let's talk about that when you've calmed down."

Ino stayed with her while she changed into her own clothes. She was blotting the moistness below her eyes when a knock came at the door. Ino answered it then stepped outside and Neji came in, closing the door behind him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning against the door. Though he barred her escape, he made no move to come closer.

She nodded.

"Maybe you were right," he said. "Maybe there are too many people around. You felt awkward. I should have insisted they leave."

She stared at him for a minute. "That is only part of the problem."

He returned her stare with one of his own. "I know."

"I told you I couldn't do this."

"We'll give it another try."

"No. I am not going through it again."

He blinked. "It'll be easier next time. Fewer people. And I'll know what not to do."

Sakura shook her head. "I'm not going through it again."

"Because it brought back memories?"

"Exactly."

"Memories you don't want."

"Memories that bring pain."

"But if you don't face them, they'll haunt you forever."

"They haven't haunted me before today."

He didn't believe her. She probably didn't dwell on those memories anymore than he did but he knew there were moments, fleeting moments when memory clawed at his gut. He couldn't believe she was callous enough not to have similar experiences. "Maybe you've repressed them."

"Maybe so. But I can't change the past."

"Neither can I. But there are still things that gnaw at me from time to time."

Sakura held up a hand. "I don't want to get into this. I can't. Not now. Besides, I have to get into office. I've already wasted enough time on this fiasco."

Neji took a step closer. His voice was calm, too calm, his expression hard. "This is what I do for a living, Sakura. I'm successful at it and I'm respected. Don't you ever, ever call it a fiasco."

Too late she realized that she'd hit a sore spot. Her voice softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I respect what you are and what you do, too, or else we'd never be paying you the kind of money we are. The fiasco was in using me for a model; particularly given what you and I had…what we had once." She looked away to find her purse then head bent, moved towards the door.

"I'm taking you to dinner tonight," Neji announced quietly.

Her head shot up. "Oh, no. That would be rubbing salt in the wound."

"Maybe it would be cleansing it, getting the infection out. It's been festering, Sakura. For seven years it's been festering. Maybe neither of us was aware of it. Maybe we never would have been if we hadn't run into each other today. But it's there and I don't know about you but I won't be able to put it out of my mind until we've talked. If we're going to work together–"

"We're not! That's what I keep trying to tell you! We tried today and failed, so it's done. Over. We'll get another model for the cover and I can go back to what I do best."

"Burying your head in the sand?"

"I do _not_ bury my head in the sand." Her eyes were flashing but his were no less so and the set of his jaw spoke freshly of stirred emotion.

"No? Seven years ago you said you loved me. Then I lay there after the accident and you didn't visit me once, not once, Sakura!" His teeth were gritted. "Two months I was in the hospital. _Two months_ and not a call, not a card, anything."

Sakura felt her eyes well anew with tears. "I can't talk about this," she whispered. "I can't handle it now."

"Tonight then."

She passed him and reached for the door but he pressed a firm hand against it. "Please," she begged. "I have to go."

"Eight-thirty tonight. I'll pick you up at your place."

"No."

"I'll be there, Sakura." He let his hand drop and she opened the door. "Eight-thirty."

She shook her head but said nothing more as she made good her escape. Unfortunately, Shikamaru, Kiba, Ino, Tenten and Kankurou were waiting for her. When they all started talking at once, she held up a hand.

"I'm going to the office." She looked at the crew from _Class_. "Go through your files, put your head together and come up with several other suggestions for a cover face. Not necessarily a model, maybe someone in the business world. We'll meet about it tomorrow morning." She turned her attention to Shikamaru and Kiba but she was already moving away. "I'm taking the limousine. Are you coming?"

Without argument, Kiba hurried after her while Shikamaru sighed and said "Troublesome woman" before following Kiba.

Neji watched them go, a small smile on his lips. She could command when she wanted to, he mused and she was quite a sight to behold. Five feet inches of pink haired beauty, all fired up and decisive. She'd change her mind, of course, at least about doing the cover shot. He'd _make_ her change her mind…if for no other reason than to prove to himself that, at last, he had what it took.

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**A/N: **End of chapter next chapter will be longer than this, I promise. 

Please review. I'd like to know what you think about this story.

~fallenleaves142~


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Here's the promised long chapter of the story Photograph. Hope you like it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto. It only belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

**Rating: **M for Mature

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Eight-thirty that night found Sakura stiffly in her living room, her hands clenched in her lap. She jumped when the phone rang, wondering if Neji had changed his mind. But it was the security guard calling from downstairs to announce that Hyuuga Neji had indeed arrive.

She had debated how to handle him and had known somehow that the proper way would_ not_ be to refuse to see him. She had more dignity than that and more respect for Neji professionally. Besides, he'd thrown an accusation at her earlier that day, and she simply had to answer it.

With a deep breath, she instructed the guard to send him up.

By the time the doorbell rang, her palms were damp. She rubbed them together then blotted them on her skirt. It was the same skirt she'd worn that morning, the same jacket, the same blouse. She wanted Neji to know that this was nothing more than an extension of her business day. Perhaps she wanted to remind herself of it. The prospect of having dinner with him was a little less painful that way.

What she hadn't expected was to open the door and find him wearing a stylish navy topcoat between whose open lapels his dark suit, crisp white shirt and tie were clearly visible. He looked every bit as businesslike as she wanted to feel but he threw her off-balance.

"May I come in?" he asked when she'd been unable to find her tongue.

"Uh, yes." She stood back dumbly. "Please do." She closed the door behind him.

"You seem surprised." Amused, he glanced down at himself. "Am I that shocking?"

"I, uh, I just didn't expect…I've never seen you in…"

"You didn't expect me to show up in a T-shirt and jeans, did you?"

"No, I…it's just…"

"Seven years, Sakura. We all grow up at one point or another."

She didn't want to _touch_ that one. "Can I…can I take your coat? Would you like a drink?" She hadn't planned to offer him any such thing but then she didn't know quite _what_ she had planned. She couldn't just launch into an argument, not with him looking so…so urbane.

He shrugged out of the topcoat and set it on a nearby chair. "That would be nice. Bourbon and water, if you've got it," he said quietly then watched her approach the bar at the far end of the room. She was still a little shaky but he'd expected that. Hell, he was shaky, too, though he tried his best to hide it. "This is a beautiful place you've got." He admired the white French provincial décor, the original artwork on the walls. Everything was spotless and bright. "Have you been here long?"

"Three years," she said without turning. She was trying to pour the bourbon without splashing it all over the place. Her hands weren't terribly steady.

"Where were you before that?" he asked conversationally.

"I had another place. It was smaller. When I took over from…took over the presidency of the corporation, I realized I'd need a large place for entertaining."

"Do you do much?"

She returned with his drink, her full concentration on keeping the glass steady. "Much?"

"Entertaining." He accepted the drink and sat back.

"Enough."

"Do you enjoy it?"

She took a seat across from him, half wishing she'd fixed a hefty something for herself but loath to trust her legs a second time. "Sometimes."

He eyed her over the rim of his glass. "You must be very skilled at it…upbringing and all." He took a drink.

"I suppose you could say that. My family's always done its share of entertaining."

He nodded, threw his arm over the back of the sofa and looked around the room again. It was a diversionary measure. He wasn't quite sure what to say. Sakura was uncomfortable. He wanted her to relax, but he wasn't sure how to achieve that. In the end, he realized that his best shot was with the truth.

"I wasn't sure you'd be here tonight. I was half worried that you'd find something else to do – a late meeting or a business dinner or date."

She looked at her hands, tautly entwined in her lap and spoke softly, honestly. "I haven't been good for much today, business or otherwise."

"But you went back to the office after you left the studio."

"For all the good it did me." She hadn't accomplished a thing, at least nothing that wouldn't have to be reexamined tomorrow. She'd been thoroughly distracted. She'd read contracts, talked on the phone, sat through a meeting but for the life of her she couldn't remember what any of it had been about. She raised her eyes quickly, unable to hide the urgency she felt. "I want you to know something, Hyu. That time you were in the hospital…it wasn't that I wasn't thinking about you. I just…couldn't get away. I called the hospital to find out how you were, but I…I couldn't get there." Her eyes were growing misty again. It was the last thing Neji wanted.

"I didn't come here to talk about that, Sakura. I'm sorry I exploded that way this morning–"

" But you mean it. You're still angry–"

"Not this minute. And I really _didn't_ come here to talk about it."

"You said we had to talk things out."

"We will. In time."

In time? In _future time_? "But we haven't got any time." She looked away and her voice dropped. "We never really did. It seemed to run out barely before it had begun."

"We've got time. I spoke with Ino this afternoon. She agrees with me that you're still the best one for this cover. You said yourself that we're well ahead of the production schedule."

A spurt of anger brought Sakura's gaze back to his. "I told you, it's done. I will not pose for that cover. You and Ino can conspire all you want but I'm still the publisher of this magazine and as such I have the final say. I'm not a child anymore, Hyu. I'm twenty-four now not seventeen."

He sat forward and spoke gently. "I know that, Sakura."

"I won't be told what's good for me and what isn't."

"Seems to me you could _never_ be told that. In your own quiet way, you were headstrong even back then."

She caught her breath and bowed her head. "Not really."

"I don't believe you," was his quiet rejoinder. When she simply shrugged, he realized that she wasn't ready to go into that. In many aspects, he wasn't either. He took another drink, then turned the glass slowly in his hands. "Look, Sakura. I don't think either of us wants to rehash the past just yet. What I'd like – the real reason I'm here now – is for us to get to know each other. We've both changed in seven years. In addition to other things, we were friends once upon a time. I don't know about you, but I'm curious to know what my friend's been doing, what her life is like now."

"To what end?" There was a thread of desperation in her voice.

"To make it easier for us to shoot this picture, for one thing." When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand and spoke more quickly. "I know. You're not doing it. But the reason you're not is that working with me stirs up a storm of memories. If we can get to know each other as adults–"

"You were an adult seven years ago, I was a teenager–"

"I was a man and you were a woman," he corrected, "but were both pretty immature about some things."

She couldn't believe what he was saying. "You weren't immature," she argued. "You were experienced and worldly. You lived far more than I ever had."

"There's living, and there's living. But that's not the point. The point is that we've both changed. We've grown up. If we spend a little time together now, we can replace those memories with new ones…" He stopped talking when he saw that she'd shrunk back into her seat. Was that dread in her eyes? He didn't want it to be. God, he didn't want that! He sat forward pleadingly. "Don't you see, Sakura? You were shocked seeing me today because the last thing we shared involved pain for both of us. Sure, seven years have passed, but we haven't seen or spoken with each other in all that time. It's only natural that seeing each other would bring back those other things. But it doesn't have to be like that. Not if we put something between those memories and us."

"I'm not sure I know what you're suggesting," she said in a tone that suggested she did.

"All I want," he went on with a sigh, "is to put the past aside for the time being. Hell, maybe it's a matter of pride for me. Maybe I want to show you what I've become. Is that so bad? Seven years ago, I was nothing. I wandered, I played. I never had more than a hundred bucks to my name at a given time. You had so much, at least in my eyes, and I'm not talking money now. You had a fine home, a family and a social status."

Sakura listened to his words, but it was his tone and his expression that reached her. He was sincere, almost beseechful. There was pain in his eyes, and an intense need. He'd never been quite that way seven years before, but she sudden couldn't seem to separate the feelings she'd had for him then from the ache in her heart now. It occurred to her that the ache had begun when she'd first set eyes on him that morning. She'd attributed it to the pain of memory, and it was probably ninety-nine percent that, but there was something more, and she couldn't ignore it. Seven years ago she'd loved him. She didn't love him now, but there was still that…feeling. And those pearl eyes shimmering into her, captivating her, magnetizing her.

"I want to show you my world, Sakura. I'm proud of it, and I want you to be proud, too. You may have thought differently, but my life was deeply affected by that summer in Konoha." For a minute the pearl eyes grew moist but they cleared so quickly that Sakura wondered if she'd imagined it. "Give me a chance, Sakura. We'll start with dinner tonight. I won't pressure you for anything. I never did, did I?"

She didn't have to ponder that one. If anyone had done the pressuring– at least on the sexual level– it had been her. "No," she answered softly.

"And I won't do it now. You have my word on it. You also have my word that if anything gets too tough for you, I'll bring you back here and leave you alone. You _also_ have my word that if, in the end, you decide you really can't do that cover; I'll abide by your decision. Fair?"

Fair? He was being so reasonable that she couldn't possibly argue. What wasn't fair was that he wore his suit so well, that his long chocolate hair looked so soft and vibrant, that his features had matured with such dignity. But that wasn't his fault. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder.

She gave a rueful half smile and slowly nodded. "Fair."

He held her gaze a moment longer, as though he almost couldn't believe that she'd agreed, but his inner relief was such that he suddenly felt a hundred pounds lighter. He pushed back his cuff and glanced at the thin gold watch on his wrist.

"We've got reservations for five minutes ago. If I can use your phone, I'll let the maitre know we're on our way."

She nodded and glance toward the kitchen. When he rose and headed that way, she moved forward the small half bath off the living room. She suddenly wished she'd showered, done over her hair and make-up and changed into something fresher. Neji was obviously newly showered. She should have done more. But it was too late for that now, so the best she could do was to powder the faint shine from her nose and forehead, add a smidgen more blusher to her cheeks and touch up her lipstick.

Neji was waiting when she emerged. He'd already put on his topcoat and was holding the coat she'd left ready and waiting nearby. It, too, was the same she'd worn that morning, but that decision she didn't regret. To wear silver fox with Neji, even in spite of his own good looking appearance, seemed a little heavy-handed.

He helped her on with the coat, waited while she got her purse then lightly took her elbow and escorted her to the door. They rode the elevator in a silence that was broken at last by Sakura's self-conscious laugh. "You're very tall. I never wore high heels in Konoha, but they don't seem to make a difference." She darted him a shy glance, but quickly returned her gaze to the patterned carpet.

"You get taller, also." Neji said.

She nodded and said nothing more. The elevator door purred open. Neji guided her through the plush lobby then the enclosed foyer and finally to the street. He discreetly pressed a bill into the doorman's hand in exchange for the keys to his car then showed Sakura to the small black car parked at the curb. Before she could reach for it, he opened the door. "Buckle up," was all he said before he locked her in and circled the car to the driver's side.

The restaurant he'd chosen was quiet but elegant one. The maitre d' seemed not in the least piqued by their tardiness, greeting Neji with warm handshake and offering a similarly warm welcome to Sakura when Neji introduced them, before showing them to their table.

Neji deftly ordered a wine. Then, when Sakura had decided what she wanted to eat, he gave both her choice and his own to the waiter. Watching him handle himself, she decided he was as smooth in this urban setting as he'd been before. He had always exuded a kind of confidence and she assumed it would extend to whatever activity he was involved in. But seeing him here, comfortable in a milieu that should have been hers more than his, took some getting used to. It forced her to see him in a different light. She struggled to do that.

"Have you been here before?" he asked softly.

"For a business dinner once or twice. The food's excellent, don't you think?"

"I'm counting on it," he said with a grin. "So…tell me about Haruno Sakura and the Haruno Corp."

She shook her head. Somewhere along the line, she realized he was right. They'd been…friends once, and she _was_ curious as to what he'd don't in the past years. "You first. Tell me about Hyuuga Neji, the photographer."

"What would you like to know?"

"How you got started. I never knew you had an interest in photography."

"I didn't. At least, not when I knew you. But the year after that was a difficult for me." His brow furrowed. "I took a good look at myself and didn't like what I saw."

She found herself defending him instinctively. "But you were an adventurer. You did lots of different things and did them well."

"I was young, without roots or a future," he contradicted her gently. "For the first time I stopped to think about what I'd be like, what I'd be doing five, ten, fifteen years down the road, and I came up with photography."

"So you decided to be a photographer just like that?" She was skeptical, though if that had been the case it would be a remarkable success story.

He chuckled. "Yeah. You should be a writer, Sakura. You could write. I could photograph."

"I've already got a full-time job, thank you. Come on, Hyu. When did you get your first break?"

Just then the wine steward arrived with an ice bucket. He uncorked the wine, poured a taste for Neji then at Neji's nod filled both of their glasses.

Neji's thoughts weren't on the wine, but on the fact that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The Sakura sitting across from him now was so like the Sakura he'd known seven years before that he couldn't help but smile in wonder. She was curious. She'd always been curious. She couldn't help herself, and he'd been counting on that. Personalities didn't change. Time and circumstances modified them, perhaps, but they never fully changed.

"Hyu…?" she prodded.

"Hn…"

Sakura knows Neji wasn't going to answer her question so she told him something that's flooding her mind after she'd open the door that night. "You never married." It was a statement, offered softly, with a hint of timidness.

"I've been too busy…What about you?"

"The same."

The waiter chose that moment to appear with their food and they lapsed into silence for a time as they ate.

"Funny," Neji said at last, "I'd pictured you with a husband and kids and a big, beautiful home in Konoha."

She gave a sad laugh. "So had I?"

"Dreams gone awry or simply deferred?"

She pondered that for a minute. "I really don't know. I've been so caught up with running the business that it seems there isn't time for much else."

"You do things for fun."

"I do…now and again." She stopped pushing the potatoes around her plate and put down her fork. "What about you? Are you still working as hard as you did first?"

"I'm working as hard, but the focus is different. I can concentrate on the creative end and leave the rest to assistants. I have specialists for my finish work and even though I'm more often than not at their shoulders, approving everything before it leaves the studio; I do have more free time. I try to take weekends completely off."

"What do you do then?"

He shrugged. "Mostly I go to the Sand. I have a small place there."

"Do you still go to Rock country?"

She straightened and the look of pleasure faded from her face. "My parents still do. It's an institution to them. Me, well, I don't enjoy it the way I used to. Sometimes, staying in Konoha is a vacation itself." She gave a dry laugh. "Everyone is gone. It's quieter."

"You always did like peace and quiet," he said, remembering that day so long ago when they'd gone mountain climbing.

Sakura remembered, too. Her gaze grew momentarily lost in his, lost in the memory of that happy, carefree time. It was great effort that she finally looked away. She took a deep breath. "Anyway, I try to take an extra day or two when I'm off somewhere on business – you know, relax in a different place to shake off the tension."

"Alone?"

"Usually."

"Then there's no special man?"

"No."

"You must date?"

"Not unless I'm inspired and I'm rarely inspired." Just then her eyes were caught by a couple very clearly approaching their table. Following her gaze, Neji turned around. He pushed his chair back, stood and extended his hand to the man.

"How are you?"

The newcomer added a gentle shoulder slap to the handshake. "Not bad."

Neji enclosed the woman's hand in his then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Sayaka, you're looking wonderful. Tasuki, Sayaka, I'd like you to meet Haruno Sakura. Sakura, these are the Nobuhiko's."

"Hi. I'm Haruno Sakura. Nice to meet you."

"Come on, sweetheart," Tasuki cut in. "The car's waiting and these folks don't need us taking any more of their time."

Sayaka turned briefly back to Sakura. "It was lovely meeting you." Then she gave Neji a kiss and let her husband guide her off.

"Sorry about that," Neji murmured, sitting down again. He pulled his chair closer to the table.

"Don't apologize." It was the first time she'd ever met any friends of Neji. "They seemed lovely."

"Yeah, they are."

By the time they'd finished their second cup of coffee, they'd fallen silent and were simply looking at each other. Their communication continued, but on a different level, one in which Sakura was too engrossed to analyze.

"Just like old times," Neji said quietly.

She nodded and smiled almost shyly. "I could sit listening to you for hours. You were always so different from other people. You had such a wealth of experience to draw on. You still do."

"You've got experience of your own–"

"But not as exciting. Or maybe I just take it for granted. Do you ever do that?"

"I wish I could. If I start talking things for granted, I'll stop growing and if that happens I'll never make it the way I want to."

"That means a lot to you….making it." So different from how he'd been, she mused. Then again, perhaps he'd only defined success differently seven years ago.

"Everyone wants success. Don't you? Isn't that way why you pour so much of yourself into the business?"

She didn't answer him immediately. Her feelings were torn. Yes, she wanted to be successful as president of the Haruno Corp, but for some reasons she didn't want to think about, much less discuss. "I guess," she said finally.

"You don't sound sure."

She forced herself to perk up. "I'm sure."

"But there was something else you were thinking about just now. What was it, Sakura?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing. It was really nothing. I think I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"And a trying one."

"Yes," she whispered.

Not wanting to push her too far, Neji didn't argue. He'd done most of the talking during the dinner, and though there were still many things he wanted to know about Sakura, many things he wanted to discuss with her, he felt relatively satisfied with what he'd accomplished. He'd wanted to tell her about his work and he had. He'd wanted to give her a glimpse of the man he was now, and he had. He'd wanted to give her something to think about besides the past, and he had. He was determined to make her trust him again. Tonight had simply been the first down payment on that particular mortgage. There would be time enough in the future to make more headway, he mused as he dug into his pocket to settle the bill. There would be time. He'd make time. He wasn't s sure what he wanted in the long run from Sakura, but he did know that their relationship had been left suspended seven years ago and that it needed to be settled one way or another.

They hit the cold night air the instant they left the restaurant. Sakura bundled her coat around her more snugly, and when Neji drew her back into the shelter of the doorway and threw his arm around her shoulder while they waited for the car, she didn't resist. He was large, warm and strong. He'd always been large, warm and strong.

For an instant she closed her eyes and pretended that that summer hadn't ended as it had. It was a sweet, sweet dream and her senses filled to brimming with the taste, the touch, the smell of him. She loved Neji. Her body tingled from his closeness. They were on their way to a secret rendezvous where he'd make the rest of the world disappear and lift her onto a plane of sheer bliss.

"Here we go," he murmured softly.

She began to tremble.

"Sakura?"

Neji was squeezing her shoulder. She snapped her eyes open and stared.

"The car. It's here."

Stunned, she let herself be guided into the front seat. By the time she realized what had happened, the neon lights of the city were flickering through the windshield as they passed, camouflaging her embarrassment.

Neji said nothing. He drove skillfully and at a comfortable pace. When they arrived at her building, he left his keys with the doorman and rode the elevator with her to her door. There he took her own keys, released the lock then stood back while she deactivated the burglar alarm.

With the door partially open, she raised her eyes to his. "Thank you, Neji. I've…this was nice."

"I thought so." He smiled so gently that her heart turned over. "You're really something to be with."

"I'm not. You carried most of the evening."

He winked. "I was inspired."

Her limbs turned to jelly and did nothing by way of solidifying when he put a light hand on her shoulder. His expression grew more serious, almost troubled.

"Sakura, about that cover–"

"Shhhh." She put an impulsive finger on his lips to stem the words then wished she hadn't because the texture of his mouth, its warmth, was like fire. She snatched her hand away and dropped her gaze to his tie. It was textured, too, but of silk, and its smooth-flowing stripes of navy, gray and mauve were serene, soothing. "Please," she whispered. "Let's not argue about that again."

"I still want to do it. Don't you think it would be easier for you now?"

"I…I don't know."

"Will you think about it at least? We couldn't try it again until early next week anyway. Maybe by then you'll be feeling more comfortable."

She dipped her head lower. "I don't know."

"Sakura?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing she should slip through her door and lock it tight, but was unable to move. When he curved one long forefinger under her chin and tipped it up, she resisted. He simply applied more pressure until at last she met his gaze.

"It's still there," he whispered. "You know that, don't you?"

Eyes large and frightened, she nodded.

"Do we have to fight it?"

"I'm not ready." She was whispering, too, not out of choice, but because she couldn't seem to produce anything louder. Her heart was pounding, its beat reverberating through her limbs. "I don't know if I'm…ready for this. I suffered so…last time…"

He was stroking her cheek with the back of his hand, a hand that had once known every inch of her in the most intimate detail. His pearl white eyes were clouded. "I suffered, too, Sakura. Do you think I want to go through that again?"

She swallowed hard then shook her head.

"I wouldn't suggest something I felt would hurt either of us."

"What _are_ you suggesting?"

"Friday night. See me Friday night. There's a party I have to go to, make a quick appearance at. I'd like you to come with me then we can take off and do something – dinner, a movie, a ride through the park, I don't care what, but I have to see you again."

"Something's screwed up here. I was always the one to do the chasing."

"Because I was arrogant and cocksure and so caught up in playing the role of the carefree bachelor that I didn't know any better." His thumb skated lightly over her lips. "I'm tired of playing, Sakura. I'm too old for that now. I want to see you again. I _have_ to see you again…How about it? Friday night?"

"I can't promise you anything about the picture."

"Friday night. No business, just fun. Please?"

If seven years ago anyone had told Sakura that Neji would be pleading with her to see him, she would never have believed it. If thirteen years ago, ten years ago, five or even one year ago anyone had told Sakura that she'd _be_ seeing him again, she would never have believed it.

"Yes," she said softly, knowing that there was no other choice she could possibly make. Neji did something to her. He'd _always_ done something to her. He made her feel things she'd never felt with another man. Shock, pain, shimmering physical awareness…she was alive. That, in itself, was a precious gift.

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**A/N:** Please review.

~fallenleaves142~


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